“Morgan Francis Wilfred?” A woman reads my name off a clipboard. I am half tempted to not stand. She must be an administrator because she’s in heels as opposed to the sneakers everyone else is running around in.

She’s about to call my name again so I take a deep breath. “Here.” I stand up. I can feel the woman give me a once over. I am intimidated. She begins to move off as she starts talking to me.

“I hear you have midwife experience.” I nod. “Your Grandmother, was it,” I nod again, “left some references. I checked them out. They all raved about you.” They did? “and your mother.” I should have seen that coming. “Though I must say,” We’re passing Ash’s room now. I flash him a quick smile as we walk on. “That Gloria has been you’re loudest supporter, saying that you know what you’re doing and we’ll see what you’re worth if we just give you a try.” Yup, she obviously thinks I can’t do this. I’m tempted to agree with her, but Gloria thinks I can. The woman has stopped. We’re outside a large double door. I can feel this is the maternity ward. She’s looking at me. “What do you think? Should we give you a try?”

Slowly I look up at the woman. Breathe, I tell myself. Maybe it’s been four years since you last took care of a woman in labor, but it all came back when you needed the knowledge with Gloria didn’t it. If nothing else I owe it to my grandma. She obviously believes in me.


I look into her face. “Yes.”

“Good.” The woman keys open the door and we walk inside. She starts explaining where things are. There are the triage rooms; three of them. Right side is the birthing side, including two water birthing rooms that the hospital is proud of. Left side is the recovery rooms. NICU is in the very back. There are no children in there at the moment. The operating rooms for C-sections are in the middle and on the other side of them, up front by the nurses’ station is the nursery. “We believe that a new mother needs as much time as possible to bond with her infant, so we try to do all vital checks in the post-partum rooms.”

I nod. My Mom did a couple births in the hospital, but due to the laws and such I wasn’t able to do more than run and fetch stuff. This place has a kinder feeling that the ones at home. Mom was always a proponent of mother child bonding through touch and feeding. I snap my thoughts back as the woman is addressing me directly again.

“Your first duties will be to assist in the provision of supplies to the rooms. The warmers must always be filled with blankets for the infants. The supply cabinet,” she opened the door to show me, “must be filled at all times.” Thankfully the shelves were labeled so I could see what it had to be filled with. “You’ll be working Friday through Tuesday, seven am till twelve, with one fifteen minute break. You are to report to Margret when you arrive. Tardiness is not allowed.” She looked me over once more. “You will be expected to wear a nurse’s uniform.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m going shopping today.”

“Good.” She lets me out of the maternity ward.

The End

1,068 comments about this story Feed